Diablo II : Insertion
by Dragon Eternal
Summary: This is a story much like all others. A group of dreamers, hopefuls, and charismatic warriors wanting to change the world. One diffrence. This is not their world. (Self Insertion)


Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo 2, nor do I own Blizzard or any of its great games. Saber is the name of my character. Nemesis, Ruthless, and Skhi have their own characters. Nova, Dredge, and Maka do not actually play the game.

"-----" Talking

'------' Thoughts

I cannot remember how it all happened, not totally. The best I can remember was a past, a human past. Hanging out with my friends, having a 'normal' life. I suppose that is the part that scares me the most. I can remember something about school, it had just started or something of the sort. One thing though, I will always remember. It's the game called Diablo 2. I will remember this all my life. If I can live any farther that is.

My memory spans worse from there. I have forgotten my name in this accursed place. Something else has been plastered in its place, this name 'Saber'. Oh how I wish for my memories, something of a home, for all I have in my waking moments are nightmares. When I try to remember something beyond this place, all which awaits me, is a quiet black. My comrades and I, we fight for the future, but we also fight to finally be whole in our souls.

I am called Saber, and adept in magicks of Necromancy. It is here I fight your nightmares, so that you may be safe. I fight with friends I had forgotten and for people I do not know. I am called Saber, and this is my story.

A scrambling darkness clung to my mind; choking whatever thoughts I could muster to a dull roar. I felt claustrophobic in my very own mind. 'Where... am I? Is this a dream?' The dream around me changed, and now the black had substance. Inside of it, I felt as if a huge ocean was swallowing me. With a tireless whirlpool sucking me down farther and farther into the black. I scrambled harder and harder against it, the some crude blocks of my memory scrambled to me, forming driftwood to keep me afloat in this madness. One thing after another came though, till one thing remained absent.

My name. I had forgotten my name.

The blackness seemed to vibrate, chuckling at me in my frustration. 'What is it?' I focused harder. 'What is it?!' I pushed harder and harder, the blackness laughed harder and harder till the insane noise roared amongst the black. 'What is my name?!' The laughter grated against my mind, threatening to tear it away with every raspy sound. Rising and rising in tempo, the waves of the black ocean gathered, moving in the throes of its glee.

'WHAT IS IT?!'

In a flash I shot up quickly, my eyes rocketing open. "Saber!" Breathing hard, I fell limp onto the bed. 'A dream.. it was just a dream.' I felt sweat shake off my head as I hit the pillow. 'Ngh...' I was content to sleep, but I could not to let it take me. Something was beckoning me to stay awake. A nagging thought kept me awake, causing me to open my eyes again.

My hand went up to my head as I squinted at the ceiling. 'Saber?' The word rolled around in my mind. 'A name? My name?' The word brought images, blurred at best, to my mind. A blade, a suit... a .. screen of some sort. 'That cannot be my name.' A bitter taste filled my mouth at the thought. 'It.. I... it just can't be.' I sighed and let my mind attempt to rest. Shortly, wearily, the gears in my mind tried to relax but were unable to do so.

'Ngh. What is it?' I sighed again and tried to sit up. That was when I noticed the strangeness of the room. Instead of walls I expected to be of wood, there was cloth, and instead of a round source of light, a kindling flame. Looking down at my sheets, I could see they were soft furs of animals, piled and stitched together for my comfort. 'What? Where ... where am I?' Crude furniture placed around the room, scarce a chair in this ... tent?

"So you are awake now."

I turned back to the side of my bed, in time to see a flap of the tent close. "What?" A woman in dull metal stood in the entrance, her red hair defying reality in its hue. The curves of the body gave way for a woman's build, more importantly one of a warrior. Her arms were clad in leather gauntlets, her legs bound in fur leggings. This was a woman who was dressed for battle. The gaze that held me barred me against the bed, nearly piercing my heart in the subtle cold. "Who are you?" My voice sounded and wavered.

"Hn... scrawnier than the last few." The woman spoke and crossed her arms. "Still, you are one of the chosen." With a sigh she shrugged lightly. "Alright, up Necromancer, we do not have time for daydreams. We live our nightmares here." Her smile seemed to be dripping in sarcasm, but held it in place for my sake.

"Who are you?" My jaw clenches slightly in anxiety. "Why am I here?"

"It's not my place hero." She turned towards the flap. "My name is Kashya. When you are dressed come outside. I will not wait long." The redhead spared me a glance over her shoulder before she continued. The soft flap of the tent comforted me as she left my sight. 'Ngh. What's going on here?' My knuckles went white from being clenched. 'Why doesn't any of this seem familiar?'

After several seconds, I threw off the furs in frustration. Sitting around would get me nowhere. The chill greeted me like an old friend, one I had to ignore to get on with my business. I had seen a small pile earlier and thought it a sack of cloth. Perhaps instead these were the clothes? I shifted my eyes back over to where I thought I had seen them, and through the flicker of lamplight I noticed it. My feet felt unstable, but I walked over to them slowly. A wave of nausea caused me to tip over, catching the end of a well-worn table for balance. Since when did my own body become foreign to me, its owner?

Examining them with rough grab of my hand, the fabric gave way into a robe. 'Indeed.' My fingers felt soft against the coarse wool. Picking up the long robe, I held it before me. 'Gray. All gray.' The thought caught bile in my throat. No color in the spectrum seemed so dull or so bland as this. The color of thick spider webs and of aged coins adorned this robe and it's coarse texture. 'Hn... At least I won't catch a cold.' I handled the fabric lightly in my fingertips.

My eyes trailed back, looking again into the pile. now a black vest and black pants were visible beneath the hem of the robe. 'Have these people no color at all?!' Shaking my head I threw the robe on the bed and released myself to the drab destiny of my life. Shoes of brown leather, an undershirt almost bleached white but settled for a dull yellow, and a small belt of a terrible quality of leather were around as well. All of which were either too small or too tight to be judged as a good fit.

Taking a few experimental steps, I found the clothes most wanting. 'Ngh. It is better than going bare.' I sighed and walked out of the tent. The cold air hit my face uncomfortably and I had to blink to keep my eyes from watering. When my eyes were indeed better, I opened them slightly, and saw the endless stretching out of tents and hovels. 'What the?! Where am I?'

"Ah! Finally, I was beginning to wonder if you were awake at all." I looked over my shoulder. 'There... the red head.' She was leaning against a fence post with a slight smirk on her face. "Now, let us go. You are the last to awake." The woman leaned forward and gradually let her feet take back the weight.

As she started to walk off, words came to my mind. "Wait!" I called out.

"Yes?" The woman turned around to face me

"I don't even know your name. At least tell me that."

"My name is Kashya." she spoke, "Guardian of this encampment." With that, the woman turned around and marched off, leaving me to trail in her wake. "Now come, more answers await you, young hero." Her hair blew backwards as if mocking me and the crunch of her boots deadened slowly as she trailed away. 'Perfect... just perfect.' I sighed at the retreating leader.

'I guess I have no choice then.' I chuckled lightly to myself. 'Guess I gotta get gone then.' With that, I followed the redhead down the beaten path. Through what seemed to be small neighborhoods to the point that things were more planned, more organized. They were more fortified. "What is this place?" I spoke up as I neared her shoulder.

Kashya's voice had a tinge of amusement. "This is the Fortress of the Sisters of the Sightless Eye." It seemed to be her own joke as she got a kick out of it just as well. "You, foreigner, wouldn't understand it I suppose. This place use to be a small outpost, a haven for those that needed a rest and a special training area for our sisters, now with all this chaos it has become an 'impregnable' fortress manned by refugees and what soldiers we have left. Traders, merchants, pilgrims, every sort of passerby would make home in this area." Her idle speech narrated further. "We have had to expand this area to accommodate for refugees though, and our sisters are spread to thin for a wholly effective barrier."

"Refugees?"

"Yes." She laughed soberly. "Hn.. perhaps I have told you more than my share, hero." Her feet slowed slightly. Turning around she glanced at me. "Listen foreigner, I have things to do. Go strait down this path, you will see a campfire soon enough. Listen to the lady named Akara." Her voice seemed a little more rushed. "Good bye hero." She smiled slightly and walked on past. I bowed slightly as she passed. Then, as an afterthought, the warrior turned again. "Hn.. I remember now. I did not ask for your name?"

"I... my ...." My tongue slipped as I tried to recall my 'right' name. 'Ngh.' I shoved aside my frustrations and spoke that which I knew. "My name is Saber." I spoke quickly. "My name is Saber." The gap in the conversation closed quickly. Kashya nodded slightly, seeming to accept my 'name'. A brief wash of embarrassment washed over me, causing me to lower my own eyes quickly.

"A weapon. Perhaps it is what we are in need of in these times." With that, Kashya nodded slightly and left. "Good luck Saber."

As she left, I could feel the emptiness of my memories seem more hallow than before. Maybe... just maybe these people could fill the hole I felt in my heart.

I walked fast, seeing shanties and hard wooden buildings alike. The glow of a fire became more and more apparent, soon bathing all else in the embers of its glow. As I neared, more than the glow became visible. Shapes, seven in all, became apparent against the blazing hue of the flames. One of the shapes was standing and others resting on the logs around the one. "Ah.. The last piece falls into place then." An old crones voice croaked out. "Sit please. Then I can begin to explain."

Awkwardly I stumbled forth, coming towards an empty spot on one of the logs. "Hn. Great. Now we got everyone here, tell us what's going on!" A voice grumbled out. I turned slightly to gaze at the speaker. To my far right, a man... no... a teenager? He had spiky brown hair, enough to the fact that the bangs would not touch his head even when wet. "We have waited long enough Akara."

"Patience my friend." The aged voice came out again. From purple robes the female voice spoke . "Should you not know your comrades in arms?"

"How are we supposed to introduce ourselves," Another voice came up from another side of the fire, "when I can barely remember my name." This one, with sandy blond hair was dressed in a dull white. 'The same as I...' The thought struck and trailed off. Now my curiosity was peaked. "Lady. We've been patient enough. Answers can explain what's going on here better than other things."

I saw a few heads nod at the words and had a chance to look over my new companions. Beside the spiky haired man was a man with the slightest of parts in his hair, most distinguishable by the tattoo that reached to his temple. On another log, a beautiful woman with long blond hair, and from the distance I picked out something strange about her. Her eyes... one was hazel, the other one blue. Two red haired women sat on another log, one with a green robe, the other in a sort of military uniform, yet from this distance I could not make out much more.

"Hn... perhaps... perhaps." Akara seemed to frown beneath the hood of her purple robe. "Listen to me then. Your memories, your names, have been destroyed for your own good." She seemed too drawn in breath for a long speech. "This world... it is not your own." Looking at the others, her eyes scaled our faces. "Your evils, the one known as 'Lucifer', has found a way into your lands. For thousands of years, this fallen fool remained locked away, never being able to physically harm you, having merely being content to condemning your souls." The lady's voice seemed ominous in the crackling fire, my own breath seeming nothing more than a whisper.

"He hates you so much more than that though. So much more... So much more that, he would implant the ideas of a game, a plaything, in your world, something he would be the master of, something he could lure you into. Trying time and time again, he perfected the art with one game, this game, known as Diablo II. Now, with thousands of people pouring their hearts into this game, he was able to form a link between his creation, and the lives of millions."

"This creation was not without it's limitations though, as several tries have been made to beat him in this world. At first your soldiers, athletes, and geniuses who were 'familiar' with the game were brought in, perhaps being able to perform at their peak." A bitter edge tipped her voice now. "Yet their connection with your home was strong, too strong, and most could barely accept the world you now find yourself in. Now, on the seventh try, the last try, the only option left was to leave you void of your life. Now you may finally stand a chance."

"You all were picked, not because you were the best, but because you were what was left. The seventh group of seven to come here." With a slight wave, the old woman continued. "The void of your minds was not the only handicap though, and you were aided with one more. Tyrael carried to me in a dream your connection, and could tell me little more. You all are connected in your world by an allegiance, a 'clan' of some sort. This game, named Diablo II, held an alliance of you all, anointed the 'Dragon' clan. I can only pray that this ... bond ... will be enough to hold you all together."

The woman seemed to weaken at her own expense, and folded her hands behind her back. "Now... is there any thing else?" Her voice as soft as it could be, but still had the rough edge of age. "I will try my best to answer any of your questions." The silence of flames quieted the room. I, myself, was trying to grasp the notion, finding it a little hard to swallow all at once.

"What a crock a' shit."

My head twisted quickly to see the speaker. 'Her?!' An eyebrow shot up in question as I saw the blond woman cross her hands across her chest. "Hn... I do not believe I have lied to you young one." Akara spoke evenly. I turned back towards the elderly lady. For some reason, I had the slightest idea she was smiling beneath the hood of her cloak.

"Are we s'posed believe this?" Her voice barked out. "Ain't there another reason or somethin'? Somethin' a lil' more... real?" The blond's eyes were shining in the flames, making her seem exotic. "All 'dis jus' don' sit righ' wid' me." Her anger riled up against the fragile old woman. "My name ain' Nemesis!" Akara stood still though, against the barbed tongue of the woman.

"Why... why does this anger you so?" Akara spoke tenderly, as if to a child. With her hands still behind her, she seemed impervious to the anger that washed over her.

"Ah ain' no girl!" The blond girl barked out again and jabbed her thumb at her chest.

Akara's face seemed to soften, or was I imagining things within the fold of that robe. "That is another.. side affect of this stage in the 'game'." She seemed to gulp slightly, perhaps to soften her dry throat. "You have been molded, 'Nemesis', to the character you have chosen." Her voice picked up a tinge of spite that grew. "The Evil has played this joke on you, 'Nemesis', to mock you."

"You jus' blowin' smoke!" The Nemesis growled. Her perfect teeth of ivory, beautiful to behold, became bared as a dragon's fangs. "Now change me back or somethin'!" She started to move forward. "An what's my damn name?!"

"Nemesis..."

"MY NAME AIN' NEMESIS!"

I leapt to my feet at her outrage, fearing for the old woman's life, and for the life of her the old woman wouldn't move an inch. Her right hand raised slightly, her palm outward. "Nemesis... If my story is so unbelievable, why can you not fathom your name? Why are you not inside your own flesh?" Her hand started to glow as she spoke. "Sit.... please. I assure you, you will return to yourself." Akara spoke soothingly.

'Is she crazy?' I move forward slightly, preparing to jump in front of the blond if need be. "Ugh" I look harder at the blond for a moment. 'What?' This 'Nemesis' lost her balance, stumbling like a drunken person and eventually falling back towards her seat on the log. That was when a pair of strong arms caught her on the way down. 'Hn?' The man with the tattoo cradled her. 'He's fast.' I stood awkwardly and walk towards my seat. The man then laid her on the log and walked off, all the way back to his original seat.

"What did you do to her?" The spiky haired one spoke with an edge to his voice. "Him... her... whatever, what just happened." He glanced back up at Akara. "I take it that was some kinda magic trick or somethin'?"

Akara's eyes glimmered from underneath her hood. "Yes... yes." She took delight, even if a miniscule amount, at the thought of one understanding. Or so it seemed to me at least. "Hn... She is just sleeping." Akara's focus seemed to drift of towards Nemesis's body. "Now I suppose would be the appropriate time for answers." I could feel her eyes shift over this motley crew and I.

The tattooed man cleared his throat. "Skip all that entrance to this parallel universe. I got a question." The blue tattoo seemed to writhe on his face to add strength to his voice. "If what you say is true, then where are we? A parallel universe or a loophole in dimensions or something?" He reached up and rubbed his chin lightly. "If this... Lucifer... brought us here, then this place has to actually exist correct?"

The old woman nodded slowly. "Something likes that." She waved her hands slightly to gather attention. "At best, I can tell you that you are indeed here. Beyond that, it is hard to tell." Akara crossed her arms, letting the hands enter the folds of her sleeves. "In Asgard, the land of God as you know him, resides there. In Midgar, is your realm, the realm of the physical. Gahanna is the area of the Netherealm, your hell. Somehow, this 'game' has combined all three existences into a fabricated reality."

"Laymen's terms?" I speak loftily.

"Forget layman's terms, do you speak English?" The spike haired man joked around with me. The fire crackled its chortled laugh merrily with the few of us that dared. Of course, Akara was not one of them.

The lady cleared her throat and continued. "As far as I know, you could be asleep in your home world until this deed is done." She seemed to shift her glare upon both my compatriot and me in the failed attempt of humor. "This being said, this world is as real as your own." She seemed to breathe in and prepare for more, but was to be interrupted. Not be I and my corny jokes, nor the spiked one and his potshots.

"And what is our world?" The tattooed man spoke. "Midgar holds no familiarity with me."

But by the tattooed one, whom has surprising showed intelligence for someone I would label a 'muscle head'.

"Earth." The old woman seemed slightly pleased again. Apparently he was asking the right questions. "I see why the Barbarian 'class' was chosen for you." She seemingly gave a slight salute to the outspoken 'barbarian'. "For such wisdom, I would not expect much else." Her voice seemed to drip with appreciation. 'Ngh. What in the world? Are we just chopped liver?'

"Class? Is this like that Model thing you said before?" One of the red-haired girls spoke. From my vantage point, it seemed to be the one clad in the uniform. I could only fathom the rest of their conversation, as the flames nearly made it impossible to hear that much. "I mean... does this explain all the strange clothes and the like?"

Akara nodded slightly. "Yes it is." She nodded again. "But..." The old woman brought out a withered finger. "Perhaps now is the time you will tell me your names now?" I could feel the warm tinge in her voice. Yet it was saddened I think. 'Pity?' My heart wondered.

"I... well .. I think I am called Nova." The woman waved slightly. "That's what you wanted to know right?" Receiving an encouraging nod from Akara, the other woman next to her spoke up. Introducing herself as 'Maka', I barely heard the rest of her speach besides her name. The fire was just barreling in its laughs at us. So the circle went, the Sandy haired one was named 'Dredge', the spiked one 'Ruthless'. Leaving the tattooed favorite of Akara to be dubbed 'Skhi'.

Something strange was happening when we were introducing ourselves. At times, Akara would seem to have flashes of inspiration or understanding, just by looking at us or hearing our names. When I introduced myself though, I felt Akara's vision waver, like she didn't like what she saw when she heard my name. I think she had a disgusted look on her face. Then again, it would be impossible for me to imply she was even affected. The hood of her cloak covered so much of her face, it would be impossible to tell for sure.

"Hn..." Her eyes scanned over us all and slowly rested on Nemesis. "Now, please indulge me in waiting just a little longer champions." She spoke softly. "I think, perhaps, your friend has napped long enough." I leaned forward slightly, tense. 'Is this smart?' I asked myself. 'That girl will rip her to shreds!' I saw this 'Ruthless' in my peripheral vision tense up as well. This made me relax.

A little, anyway.

Her hand came unclasped and free, glowing slightly. Muttered words came from her mouth and it seemed the air around the blond shimmered and in time, broke. 'I guess... I guess that was the spell breaking.' I grit my teeth slightly. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' As soon as the thought came it was gone, and for the life of me I could not remember where it came from.

The blond surprised me though, as she could barely sit up, mesmerized or something of the like.. "Are you feeling better?" Akara spoke. 'Worried?' The thought tickled my gray matter. In response, Nemesis nodded slowly and lifted her head ever so slightly to see Akara. 'Hn... what other witchcraft does she know?' My eyes slid over to Akara. How could one be at ease with one with such power?

"Your models, your 'classes', are but the 'template' of your chosen vicars in that game. A cruel jest on his own part, but this is your form for now, best constructed for your own talents. These 'classes'," her voice had a slight bitter tint, "unleash the powers within you." My teeth ground against each other. 'What is it? Is she trying to avoid something?

"You all are to be taught to the best of your strengths." The elder's eyes moved amongst us. "The one known as Skhi has already been told his model of skills, a barbarian. The powers of hand-to-hand combat will his domain. Such is the forte of his template." The steady crackle of fire kept a slight warmth on me, despite the chill that ran laps up and down my spine. "Now it is time for me to reveal the rest of these 'talents' that have been awakened within you." I had a feeling she was sizing us up quickly, checking the list to make sure all the information was right.

Akara's head turned slightly towards Dredge.. "Yours will be the leadership of others. Your faith will be their strength." Her aged hand made it's way from her robes as a withered branch reaches for rain. "Dredge, you are the Paladin." A slight gesture graced the general direction of the sandy haired blond. "It will be your spirit that will perhaps affect them the most."

Her face seemed to slowly turn to its next target. Thankfully, this was not I, not yet anyway. "You have been given the right to understand nature, and have gained its trust." She voice narrowed carefully with each word. "This trust is not gained easily, and should not be taken for granted." Akara's face came to a stop on another. "You, restless one, have been appointed druid." Ruthless seemed to stiffen slightly. "Whither it be the robins of the trees or the dire wolves of the mountains, they will come."

'My turn?' Akara's face turned lightly to the end of the log before she spoke. "Lore of the jungle is at your fingertips. Through fine precision and discipline, your arts are found." She slowed as she neared her target. "Dedication is the final word to be said. Nemesis, you are the Amazon." I looked back at the woozy girl on the log. 'She passed on? Did she skip me or something?' Nemesis's eyes seemed to narrow slightly. I could see only a flake of denial across her iris, but could had not the energy to express it.

Her eyes flickered towards me lightly. "You," She breathed, "you are the Necromancer." Akara whispered before marching onward. 'That was it?' My brow crunched together in confusion. "The dead will bow before you, the earth can called by your spells." I could taste her disgust for me. I felt so small then. I wished I could have shrank so small as to hide in a knot in the wood. "Guide your troops well, corpse jockey." She muttered the last few words, granting me the feeling that I would be the only one to hear them.

The green clothed girl, Maka, now came into the scope of Akara. I wasn't listening though, not completely. I was too busy brooding over her words to give a two-bit thought too much else. 'Corpse jockey?...' I held my chin in my hands and glared at the fire. The crackling of the fire drowning out the old crones voice. It was shortly after that I picked up the end of another person's 'model'.

".... weapons are trickery and stealth. Traps are your specialty, as is the art of martial combat. Nova, may it be known to you that you are of the 'Assassin' model."

Her voice had changed so much it was scary. The contempt that she originally felt for me was transparent now, not even conceivable when listening to the wisdom endowed within her speach. 'Am I cursed to be hated like this?' My jaw clenched tightly. 'Ngh... a day in a new world and I'm already getting pushed around.' Akara had finished by now, all of us being designated our fates in this world. 'I won't fail.' My eyes

bore holes in the purple folds of the woman.

'I won't fail.'

End Chapter 1

Ngh. So, how did the first chapter go? Do you hate it? Do you love it? Do you want to blast me out of a cannon? Please be mindful this is not the first version of this story. Sections of it were lost and had to be rewritten, and in fact some areas are not as nearly as good as they should be.

Yes, I know the 'Corpse Jockey' is a term used in Shaman King during the conversation of Ana and Silva about Yoh's second preliminary round, but hey, this is a fanfiction. Coined terms come in by the swallows and coconuts here.

'Praise is accepted, flames are noted, but indifference is ignored.'


End file.
